A Matter of Pride
by magenta blues
Summary: Set in Old Kanagawa, Alternate universe and MitAya. Thugs don't have souls, Blades don't have consciences, and Pride... Pride is what we cling to.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Slam Dunk or its characters.

Violence, resistance and bloodshed were commonplace to them. They were, after all, Lord Tokuwa's thugs, better known on the streets as the "Black Army". They were formed to threaten, extort, bully and eradicate all who opposed Tokuwa's grand plan of "economic advancement". The last tenet of their organization was also the exercise they conducted most often, for Lord Tokuwa's economic advancements involved heavy taxes on the poor, unjustified land grabs and unvalidated claims on property and life. Many of the common folk, on the brink of starvation, had been roused to action and had led many a protest on the streets, only to be subdued by the Black Army on the account of treason against the state. Small resistance groups, mostly made out of farmers, had been time and time again rounded up, disbanded and removed entirely from society. Sometimes, the farmers were placed into forced labour, employed to work in Lord Tokuwa's fields til they learnt and embraced Tokuwa's economic vision of profit for himself. The resistance fighters deemed as more destabilising and dangerous to the state's vision were systematically executed by the Black Army.

Thus, the Black Army was used to protests, to inspiring fear and hatred amongst the common people. They knew what to do with men that did not comply.

Still, they had not anticipated this army of white that had flooded the streets of Old Kanagawa, wailing and thumping their chests, demanding for the injustices laid upon them to be heard. Their cries grew louder as they passed through the streets unhindered, calling out the names of all those that had been lost to them. The brothers, the husbands, the fathers and sons that had been taken away from them, this army of women clad in white were determined that Lord Tokuwa address their complaints, or they would march to the capital, where the Emperor and his officials would instead hear their cries.

"Feh, Lord Tokuwa isn't going to like this," Hotta said, playing with the toothpick between his teeth. "But... I ain't never hit a woman before."

Hotta's words echoed the sentiments of several of the younger Black Army officers. They stared uneasily at the White Army marching through the streets. Some of the women were so old, the greys and whites of their hair matching the mourning attire they had adorned themselves with as they continued their wailing journey down the streets.

Mitsui Hisashi stared at the women, a growing knot of dread tightened in his stomach. He, like the others, knew that they would be sent into action soon. It was easier to beat the shit out of men, for men reacted with equal violence and rage. Women, old and young, however, were different. There was no triumph in a battle against them, only a sense of dishonour in having taken any action against their fragility. Thugs, that they were, the Black Army wasn't entirely soulless.

The doors to the Black Army quarters cracked opened. First Captain of the 2nd unit, Ryu, slithered through the gap, a sinister thin smile graced his pale face. Behind him, the burly figure of Tetsuo, First Captain of the 1st unit, emerged. His face was impassive.

"Move out" Tetsuo said, his gruff voice authoritative. Mitsui cast his eyes to the ground. He had given up his lineage, nobility and humanity a long time ago. He tightened his grip around the sword and tried to block out the voices in his head. Why was he having doubts now?

Mitsui rose to his feet and shuffled out of the room with the rest. He was a Black Army officer, the grim reaper and bringer of Death. He had to remember that he had no soul. He gave that up several years ago.

A/N: a departure from my usual crappy tales. but please leave reviews. constructive criticism helps to carve out a better story! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

She had doubts about the efficacy of their mission. A small protest, a quick mobilisation of the women across town and a disruption in the daily activities of Kanagawa would not move Tokuwa nor act as a credible threat against his current tight hold over the society's resources and governance. They would be a mere speck of dust in Tokuwa's eyes, an irritation that would need to be stamped out quickly and aggressively. Tokuwa would never let them reach the ears of the Emperor's officials. He would never let them march beyond the boundaries of his gates, nor would he act to placate his people. No, he was not that kind of ruler. Tyranny, greed and fear-mongering was his game; Tokuwa would lead by suppression and never by compassion.

All this Ayako knew very well. She and her brother detested Tokuwa's ethics or lackthereof, and had in the last year or so been working underground for a resistance movement under Anzai Sensei's lead. Their roles were simple. Her winsome smile and employment at the nearby inn with its endless chatter and secrets passed over cups of sake made Ayako a useful informant. Her brother, on the other hand, was the messenger. Travelling by night and under the cover of darkness, he relayed all the information gathered by Ayako in the day. The two had been instrumental in delivering the information that allowed the resistance fighters to successfully foil some of Tokuwa's human trafficking activities.

However, the success came at a price. The sting of defeat was a bitter taste in Tokuwa's mouth, and he set out his Black Army, intent on hunting down those who had made a mockery out of him. Ayako's brother was caught in one of his night travels, and she had not heard a word from him since.

Ayako had no doubt in her mind the extent of Tokuwa's ruthlessness. She didn't dare hope for her brother's survival. No, living with such hope, was excruciatingly painful. It choked the heart, it suffocated her. She spent her days instead, pondering, plotting, trying to devise a tactical strategy that would end Tokuwa's tyranny, and that would leave the damn bastard dead in her hands once and for all.

Such a strategy, however, did not at all figure in loud protests in the middle of the day, calling attention to themselves when a sneak attack would be most useful. Ayako was well aware of the futility of this exercise as she marched on with the other women, and was increasingly frustrated that she could not convince Obaa-san otherwise. The old lady had taken both Ayako and her brother in when they had lost their parents at a young age. Now, Obaa-san having lost her husband, her sons and her foster son to Tokuwa, was determined to have her grievances heard even after Ayako repeatedly warned her against the suicidal nature of this protest.

_"I will have his ear. Or it'll be the Emperor's" Obaa-san had said, folding her arms across her shoulders. _

_"You will not gain his ear, you will only lose your life!" Ayako cried, trying desparately to make the old woman see reason. _

_"Then so be it! Better to lie in the earth with my loved ones then be silent about their graves!" Obaa-san had snapped. _

So Ayako tagged along, and joined in the march of the white mourning ladies. She did not wail. Instead she trained her eyes and ears at the crowd; watching, waiting, listening for the first indication of danger and the moment when she would have to drag Obaa-san out of the group and into some area of safety.

She did not have to wait long, as screams broke out at the front end of the protest march, and the Black Army swooped down on them in all directions.

_A/N: ok ok, so its been a bit long-winded and maybe a teensy bit melodramatic. But I felt the need to contextualise the situation. The White March in this story is inspired by the actual events in South Africa in the 1950s. One of their protest songs included a line that says "Now you have touched the women, you have struck a rock". Please review, and do let me hear from you how i can improve the story! Thanks!_


	3. Chapter 3

The strict order not to unsheath their swords did not ease the disgrace that accompanied their actions. The women were still rough-handed and shoved to the ground. Those who protested further and fought back were beaten down with the hilts of the Black Army's swords. The ringleaders of the march, the front-runners of the protest, were rounded up, cuffed and tied up; they would be brought back to Tokuwa for further judgement or punishment.

.

All around him, Mitsui heard cries intermingled with screams. While the women's screams weighed heavily on his conscience, it was his fellow comrades' leers and undisguised pleasure at subduing the women that sickened him to his core. The thrill of authority, the lack of application of rules to them and the feeling of invincibility were aspects that had drawn Mitsui into the Black Army. The debauchery the Black Army was known for, Mitsui had tolerated as long as he didn't have to see it.

.

But now, watching the scene unfold in the open, he had a very good sense of what Ryu and his men in the second unit did in their patrols, and how they mixed their business with pleasure.

.

"For shame! For shame! Disgrace!"

.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mitsui saw an old silver-haired woman rush forward to help get her fellow friends on their feet. The hardy, old woman was hurling curses at them in a most colourful language that Mitsui never thought the elders would be capable of; she called upon the heavens to listen to their plight and to enact vengeance on their behalf. She cursed them with impotency, and then wished that all the children they had would grow up deformed and damned. She beseeched the lightning gods to strike the Black Army dead, before deciding that they should be cursed for the rest of their life with a slow painful death, complete with festering wounds and warts .

.

"Shut up, you old hag" Mitsui watched as Tora, one of the officers in the 2nd unit, grabbed hold of the old lady's arm and flung her to the ground. The old lady was still hailing curses at them, her voice grown shrill from the impact and terror that filled her. Tora moved to silence her and raised his sword.

.

'Damn fool,' Mitsui thought as he rushed forward to prevent an unnecessary casualty. He burst through the crowd, shoving aside some of his own officers to get through to the old woman. He was not fast enough and Tora's sheathed sword came down hard and impacted against soft skin. The old woman, however, suffered no wound, for a young woman had rushed in at the last minute and shielded the old lady with her back.

.

The young woman had barely yelped when the blow struck her back. Instead, she pushed the old woman firmly behind her and levelled Tora a defiant stare, almost challenging him to lay another hand on them. Mitsui knew the kind of man Tora was, a brute who couldn't stand his ego to be hurt. He would retaliate. Mitsui didn't know what kind of suicide death wish the young woman had in mind, but he had no intention of letting the two women die on his watch.

.

Goaded by the woman's audacity and slightly unnerved by her burning gaze, Tora unsheathed his sword. The young woman unsettled him, it was best to be rid of her now and deal with explanations to Tetsuo later. With a malicious sneer, he swung at them.

.

Metal clashed against metal as Tora found himself being pushed back with the force of his own blow. He gaped slightly at the newcomer before recovering his senses and steadying himself into a fighting position.

.

"What the hell are you doing Mitsui?" Tora growled, glowering at the tall Black Army soldier that now stood between him and the woman.

.

"Enough. Sheath your sword, Tora, and stand down" Mitsui said.

.

"Why, have you taken a liking towards her?" Tora sneered.

.

"Maybe. Maybe she's my kind of woman," Mitsui answered evenly, watching Tora carefully for any sudden movements or attacks.

.

"Maybe she's my kind of woman too," A third voice spoke up. Both Mitsui and Tora turned to see Tetsuo emerge from the crowd. As he approached Tora, he slowed in his pace before suddenly delivering a hard left upper-cut to Tora's chin, that sent the younger man reeling backwards.

.

"Baka, I told you to keep your swords sheathed," Tetsuo said. His voice maintained its usual gruffness and betrayed no hint of anger. Tora spat out the blood that now stained his teeth. His gaze swivelled back and forth from Tetsuo to Mitsui. He spat one last time before moving away with his tail between his legs.

.

"We're done here. Gather up the ringleaders and pile them into the cart. Tokuwa will deal with them" Tetsuo said and moved off to get his men into order.

.

Mitsui felt the tension leave his shoulders. As quickly as they had begun, they had ended it as speedily. He turned around and grabbed the young woman by the arm, twisting it and causing her to wince in pain. Bending down, he brought his face close to hers. In that close proximity, he had a better look of her and was surprised to see that the fire in her eyes had not ebbed nor been replaced with fear. In a low voice that tickled her neck, he spoke to her curtly.

.

"You are a fool to think that your dagger would have saved you," he admonished before withdrawing. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that he had strategically twisted the arm that held the dagger.

.

"Let go of me," she hissed, angry that she had been found out. Mitsui studied her for abit before releasing her hand and backing away.

.

"Ja ne," Mitsui said, waving his hand dismissively as a parting shot. He quickly rejoined the rest of his unit as they marched the ringleaders of the White Army off to Tokuwa's premises.

.-. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -.

Ayako stared, incensed at the young officer's retreating back. What the hell did he mean by "Ja ne"? She wasn't his friend. What right did he have to be so casual with her?

_A/N: I kind of wanted to have the scene here reflect a little bit of the fight going on in the gym in the actual Slam Dunk anime. but of course, i had to tweak alot of parts to it to fit the current story. Anyway, next few chapters should bring in some other cast members of the old Shohoku team!_


End file.
